


stranger

by orphan_account



Category: Furi (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Introspection, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 22:05:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13797282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Maybe it was a divine gift of some sort, for doing a good deed. Somehow he doubted that, but it didn't matter. He'd never get an answer anyway.





	stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Post-good ending.  
> Some snapshot-style things, since I enjoyed the game. I thought it'd be fun to write my favorite thing to read, which is a humanoid nonhuman's introspective viewpoint. Iunno if it turned out any good, but I was right. Originally I wanted to write more, but seeing how my longer projects usually turn out (hint: they never get done), I decided to cut it short on purpose this time. Getting things done feels good haha, I should try it more often. :")

Something in him had broken during that second impact. Or maybe it'd been fixed. Maybe it was a divine gift of some sort, for doing a good deed. Somehow he doubted that, but it didn't matter. He'd never get an answer anyway.

Odd eyes surveyed the horizon, wondering where to go. Curiously, the beach spread out about him didn't wither; the water lapping at his ankles didn't turn rancid and poisonous. It was a strange, novel sensation, but one he could get used to.

\\\

Warmth. The Rider had felt it before, of course, but had never taken the time to appreciate it. He'd never paid attention to anything past a quick, cold analysis. What was asked of him, and nothing more. But there was no directive now, no one to report back to. No masters, no jailers. Only the warm sun above, a pleasant contrast with cool grass beneath his feet.

\\\

Humans. Few had spoken to him as a living thing, and only one remained. He found himself returning to that one, the Voice familiar despite their time together being short. He spoke to the Rider still, a light in his voice that Rider couldn't describe. A reminder of what he'd done. Of what he was. A face - what he could make out of it, beneath the garish mask - so much like his. And the human's child, so small. Both fragile. So weak in comparison. So temporary, in the eyes of time. Yet where he'd recognize this in a detached manner, now he felt... protective.

Definitely broken.

The Rider didn't stay for long. His presence discomforted the Voice, and he knew it. It certainly was about what he'd done to free himself, though there was something else. How uncannily *human* he appeared, when every way he moved all but screamed otherwise. Despite how he looked and the good he'd done, he always would be a stranger.

In the end, there wasn't anything left for the chatty man to say, besides a simple "good luck." The Voice gave him something to wear before he left, drab clothing to disguise himself. Their hands brushed as the Rider accepted the gift; equally soft, but only one pair carried warmth.

It was tempting to look back, but he never did.

\\\

Dew shimmered in the early morning light. The Rider had kept moving, no goal in mind, restlessness carrying him toward the neverending horizon. He neared a settlement of some sort, a simple, fairly developed town resting beside the canal he'd been following. He sensed activity within, vehicles and various folks coming and going every so often, and part of him wanted to enter. It was a part he'd repressed since first landing, a curious little itch at the back of his mind. He knew it was risky and illogical to enter a human settlement. Why not? He could leave in an instant if he was found out. Bare feet tread soundlessly along the unpaved road.

Maybe for just a moment.

\\\

Dirty.

The Rider never minded the dust and elements, but knew he had to take care of his clothing. Too dirty and he'd be found distasteful or suspicious. So he'd stopped to wash it as best he could, at a place as far out of sight he could find on the nearby map. He'd had good luck with humans so far, most only assumed he was a poor traveler from his worn clothing, and paid him no mind. He found humans interesting, and didn't want to risk his chance to continue watching them from afar.

His body didn't produce sweat like humans, so there wasn't much but dust and grime from the town. His eyes strayed to the shape reflected back at him, and he watched curiously as it stilled with the water. The Rider knew what he looked like, yet the sight still felt unfamiliar. Tan skin where it showed, wild white hair, chiseled silhouette. Eyes searching for something.

Human, adult male. Traveler.

That wasn't right, obviously, but it'd have to be.

*

Garments hung up to dry nearby, the Rider waited, idly watching the clouds drift past in silence. He'd heard humans mention them looking like certain objects or fauna, but never quite understood the meaning behind the statements. If there was a meaning at all. Oftentimes there was no deep meaning at all to what humans did. Maybe he had that in common with them.

A look back down changed that line of thought. The black, armored skin that covered most of his body, usually covered by normal clothing nowadays, shone in the sunlight. The bright glow it carried in battle lay dormant. For a moment he wished he could remove it. What did he look like underneath? Was he more akin to a machine, or an organic creature? It was a strange thought.

_'I thought you were a monster.'_

He gazed at his reflection, pupils momentarily shining with an unnatural light. Monsters were fictional creatures, often grotesque in appearance, but he wasn't either of those things. He was almost too perfect, but different in just enough ways to be treated so. He was no monster, just a stranger. His reflection echoed this, the sight of his armor-skin uncovered making him feel something he couldn't describe. It had the same appearance around his pelvis as well, his groin a featureless, smooth plane. Another difference, there. He'd seen himself nude before, and didn't understand shame. So what was this feeling?

 _Lonely_ , he realized the emotion was. Maybe he'd spent too much time around humans recently after all. Rider didn't know why he looked the way he did. It was likely to hide himself easily among humans, an imitation to trick them into lowering their guards. He'd never asked, and never would be able to. It was a pointless thought in the first place, but something about it made him feel cold inside.

\\\

Seasons came and went, but the Stranger remained.

He wasn't sure what he wanted. Happiness? What was happiness, and was he even capable of it? Humans often went their whole lives seeking satisfaction. They found satisfaction in things that depended on their nature. Family, love, work, discovery, conquest... things he couldn't have, things he couldn't understand. The closest he'd felt to satisfaction, he supposed, was as he'd worked his way closer and closer to freedom. But that couldn't be all, it wasn't where his story ended. He wasn't sure how long he'd live, though it was likely to be far longer than any true organic being.

A sigh. One of the gestures he'd picked up over the months as he traveled between settlements. It made him feel better, he thought. The more he picked up, the less he stood out, anyway. Before him lay the outskirts of a city, buildings that grew larger and more densely-packed the closer they grew to the center. Vibrant, loud, and glowing. In a place like this, most folks were strangers to each other. He'd blend in well. It was only a small amount of hope, but it was enough.

As he glanced up to the sky above, he could faintly make out parts of the prison. It would remain there, as a lifeless shell and a reminder to him. He could never go back, even if he wanted to. He was just a stray drone, a construct with no past, doomed to forever be a stranger on the planet he'd saved.

Yet, as weary eyes looked forward, he'd already decided.

Maybe, he could have a future.


End file.
